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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339877">The Affairs of Humans and Demons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshine_sunshine/pseuds/moonshine_sunshine'>moonshine_sunshine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley is still a demon, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Master/Slave, Ok I lied, Slave Crowley, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, That is important, and not in the sexy way, androgynous crowley, aziraphale fancies crowley but he respects the consent, but - Freeform, but a different kind of demon, crowley has an authority issue, it gets sad, master aziraphale, only the best for these boys, premarital handholding, these two are in a consensual relationship, witches and demons are more tolkeinish in this au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:21:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshine_sunshine/pseuds/moonshine_sunshine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale Fell has found himself falling into the inheritance of a distant uncle's estate. The house itself is odd but it's residents even more peculiar.</p><p>With the help of an enslaved demon from the named Crowley, Aziraphale unravels some secrets that just may turn the tide, and bring an end to this 150 year old war.</p><p> <br/>Updated weekly<br/>Rating may change later for certain chapters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Inheritance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale Fell had acquired very little sleep in the past few days, seeing as he'd been thrust into the unexpected position of funeral planner for an uncle he was fairly certain he'd never met. Aziraphale was informed he was the 'closest kin' to Mr Fell (he hadn't even been given a first name for Pete's sake!) and therefore in charge of the death preparations, though it became increasingly obvious once Azira had was attempted to reach out to other relatives, that by 'closest kin', they meant by distance, not blood.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, hardly anyone showed, few people showed up to the arrangement Aziraphale had thrown together under such short notice. In fact- the only people come to this mysterious 'Mr Fell's funeral, where his servants and the local priest. It was a terribly awkward affair, and Aziraphale had been eager to leave once the old man was in his grave. He had been stopped however, by an older woman with bright orange curled hair, which Aziraphale found himself comparing to the colour of carrots. </p><p>"Pardon me Mr Fell- I'm Madame Tracy, a friend of your late Uncle's. I'd like to talk to you about the matter of his estate..." </p><p>Had Aziraphale not been so polite of a character, and perhaps not a tad bit curious, he might have made it to his coach then, and been home in time to get a good night's rest. However instead, he'd stopped and listened to the woman's words. </p><p>. . .</p><p>Aziraphale grumbled to himself, lifting his head from the makeshift pillow he'd made with his coat. The jostling of the carriage had grown far too much for the man to ignore in his attempt at getting some rest. A day and a half now he'd spent in the cramped coach with Madame Tracy. Why? The answer was simple really.</p><p>Aziraphale had been given ownership of the 'Fell Manor', just outside of Tadfield. This included hundreds of acres of land, livestock, and an variety of servants that the late Mr Fell had 'handpicked himself', Tracy assured him. It seemed too good of an offer to be true, but Aziraphale jumped at the chance. He himself didn't have a manor- he wasn't one for grand displays of wealth and fortune, owning his own little townhouse in London, England, withing walking distance of the bookshop he owned, and he was fine with that, really. But lately... He'd found his life was lacking in something. </p><p>The Fells where a name not to be trifled with. There were Fells scattered all throughout the Soldier's of God, many of which where Aziraphale's direct siblings. But he never cared for battle and bloodshed, not did he take an interest in the politics that came with it. He was a bit of a black sheep in that regard, he had to admit. But the man still received his monthly share of family money, and the occasional yet steady flow of women asking wed him. What he really wanted though, was something new. Something different. He was soon to realise the error of his ways once Madame Tracy pulled the curtains back to reveal the Fell Manor.</p><p>Had Aziraphale did not already sport such a fair complexion, his face would have paled at the sight of his Uncle's- nay, now HIS- estate. Politely put, it looked like a home where ghosts would congregate. </p><p>The building was old, it's brick and mortar exterior having turned a smattering dark grey and white over the many years of exposure to the elements. A few more buildings could be seen off to the side, these looking less withered down, and Aziraphale assumed they where never additions for servant housing. </p><p>All along the walls, untamed ivy vines crawled upwards, though half of them where shriveled and dead. In fact, most plants around the house where dead, including the shrubs that where supposed to line the edges of the building. Instead, sharp crooked branches poked out at odd angles, and it was hard to imagine a time when the shrubs could have sustained any form of pretty leaves or flowers. The lack of colour in nature could have simply been written off as bad timing on Aziraphale's part. After all, it was early October, there was a slight chill in the air, and it was plausible that a bad bought of cold weather had come a little early, where it not for the fact that just twenty minutes earlier, Aziraphale had peeked his head out of the carriage, and cought a glimpse of cows grazing on a particularly lush green field of grass.<br/>
It appeared, Madame Tracy had exaggerated a few features of the estate. </p><p>The horses pulled them up to the front of the house, and reluctantly, Aziraphale exited the carriage, making sure to grab the one bag he'd brought along. He'd have to send for his things if he was to be staying at the manor for long, or make a trip to buy new clothes in Tadfield.</p><p>Madame Tracy stood on the polished steps of the home, her hands clasped firmly infront of her as she smiled brightly at Aziraphale. There wasn't a trace of concern on her face to be read, for having exaggerated the grandeur of the estate Aziraphale was to inherit. In fact, the red haired woman seemed proud of her home.</p><p>"I'll take your bag and alert the staff of our arrival, supper should be finished soon. Would you like a quick tour?" </p><p>Aziraphale handed over his bag to the woman when she extended her hand out for it, and he shook his head.<br/>
"I think I'd rather explore the place on my own, if that's alright with you?" </p><p>"Oh it's more than alright with me deary! Less stress on the knees for me anyhow."<br/>
He smiled, and the two made their way inside- Tracy immediately heading for the stairs on her left, while Aziraphale meandered about, taking everything in. </p><p>Admittedly, the inside was much better taken care of than Aziraphale had expected. Upon entering the house, he found himself in the grand foyer, with twin staircases meeting up to a balcony that overlooked the large room. The whole interior of the home was dark- from rich dark wood panelling along the walls, to the luxuriously black and silver crushed velvet chairs that sat angled towards a lit fireplace. It was very gothic in aesthetic, and as Aziraphale wandered through the rooms of the first floor, he found everything to be in rather good condition. A few chairs appeared to be more worn down than others, a sign of where the previous owner preferred to sit no doubt, but it added to the charm. This place was lived in- this was obvious from the doggeared books pulled from their shelves, left open to random pages on whatever tables were available.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale caught sight of a flash of auburn hair, and for a moment the blonde haired man assumed Madame Tracy had come back downstairs to fetch him for supper. He looked over to where he thought he'd seen the woman, but soon realised it wasn't her. </p><p>Behind a set of glass french doors was what appeared to be a Sunroom, where a few wicker chairs and a plethora of potted plants. Sitting in one of these chairs was a rather androgenous figure with wavy shoulder length auburn hair. They where relaxed, slumped back in the chair in a way that seemed only possible if one was limp and boneless, with a pair of large dark glasses that rested on their pointed nose, hiding any hint of the strangers eyes. Curious as to who this person was, Aziraphale turned the doorknob, opening up one of the glass doors and making his way into the sunroom. </p><p>Once inside, Aziraphale realised that the room was much bigger than he'd seen from the other side, and he took a moment to marvel at the variety of flora he was suddenly surrounded by.<br/>
There where shelves of blooming plants and low hanging ferns all around, save for the little sitting area. Quickly forgetting the reason he'd entered the Sunroom in the first place,  Aziraphale found himself drawn to a shrub in the further corner of the room. The plant in question barely reached Aziraphale's waist, though he was certain it would reach much higher where it not for the large yellow flowers that pulled the leaves downwards. Falling downwards, the bright flowers resembled little trumpets. Slowly, he reached a hand out to touch one of the plant's leaves, but a voice startled him from doing so.</p><p>"I wouldn't touch those if I where you." </p><p>Aziraphale whirled around to look at the person who'd spoken to him. Sitting in the chair was the auburn haired stranger- a man, Aziraphale decided based on the deeper sounding voice- who looked as though they hadn't moved at all, save for the now present slight smirk on their face.<br/>
"Why not?" Aziraphale asked, though he'd since put his hands into the pockets of his trousers and taken a few steps away from the shrub for good measure. </p><p>"That's an Angel's Trumpet. Beautiful to look at, deadly to touch." The man still sat calm as ever, and Aziraphale wondered if he'd even bothered to open his eyes from behind the shades he wore. There was something about the man's accent that was odd, Aziraphale realised, as he spoke. It was as if he was holding back a growl or hiss with the words he said, not in a menacing way, but as if it was a part of his language that he had to remind himself to hold back. Aziraphale couldn't think of any territory that spoke with that kind of inflection.</p><p>"Are you the gardner?" Aziraphale asked, confused as to who this man was and what his role was here at the manor. Gardner seemed an appropriate enough assumption, given the man's knowledge. </p><p>"Hardly," he said with a scoff and finally, he shifted in his seat to sitting upright, looking over Aziraphale. "You the new Master?" </p><p>"I- well... That is to say, you needn't call me that, you know. 'Master'."<br/>
Although Aziraphale had grown up in a rather large family, with many servants and slaves, he found he didn't all that well enjoy actually 'owning' anyone, or even paying some poor sod minimum wage to grovel in his presence. "You can call me Az-" </p><p>"Master. Crowley can call you 'Master', and nothing else."<br/>
Both men turned to see Madame Tracy standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she glared at the red haired man. Aziraphale opened his mouth to dispute, but when she turned her look over to him, he thought better of it. "Crowley. Anthema's been looking for you. You best not keep her waiting any longer than you have been."<br/>
The woman gave a nod of her head, gesturing for Crowley to get up, and with a dramatic sigh, now very close to that of a beast's growl, the auburn haired man stood up, and pushed passed Tracy, disappearing into the house. </p><p>"Was he the Gardner?" Aziraphale asked again, still not clear on who this mystery man was. </p><p>"Hardly," Tracy said, rolling her eyes. "Now come along, I'll show you to your room so you can change before dinner." </p><p>This cleared up absolutely nothing for Aziraphale, but he followed the woman back inside anyway, too tired to object.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The stage is set, the curtain drawn, it's time for y'all to meet some important supporting characters (as if you don't already know who they are from the show..)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dinner as it turned out, was much more casual than Aziraphale had expected. He'd freshened up and changed into the only other clean suit he had available, and met up with Madame Tracy in the dining hall. He'd been directed to sit at the head of the table, Tracy taking a seat near his right with no hesitation. There where three more chairs with plates and silverware already set up, but no one else had arrived yet. Aziraphale looked from the spots to Madame Tracy with a curious look. </p>
<p>"Lady Anathema Device and Sir Newton Pulsifer," Tracy said, nodding to the two seats across from her, at Aziraphale's left. "And Crowley." She said, glancing at the empty chair next to her. A young girl came into the room carrying a tray of with two steaming bowls of stew, and a basket of sliced bread. Aziraphale thanked the girl as a bowl was placed infront of him, and Tracy made a comment to the girl about 'not needing to rush' with the others' food. And then she was gone, back to the kitchen, Aziraphale presumed. </p>
<p>"I regret to inform you, Mr Fell, that I haven't been completely honest with you about you're inheritance up to this point." </p>
<p>If Aziraphale had been the uncivilized sort, he would have said something along the lines of 'yeah, no shit.' Thankfully, he wasn't the type, and the closest he came to saying anything to the sort, was to simply quirk an eyebrow up and say "oh?" as he reached for a slice of bread to butter. Poisonous plants and the misleading dilapidated exteriors of the manor had not been mentioned previously by Madame Tracy. </p>
<p>"You see, Mr Fell- the previous ones that occupied this home, that is- had a bit of an interest in... Oh how do I put this delicately..." </p>
<p>"Occult?" A female voice said, and the two turned to see a dark haired woman with round spectacles making her way to the table. In her hands she held a rather large leather bound book that looked more like a family heirloom than reading material to have at dinner. Aziraphale presumed this was Anathema.</p>
<p>Behind her where two men, one Aziraphale recognised as the red haired Crowley, who was still wearing his dark shades indoors. He appeared to have changed, now sporting devilishly tight trousers, and a loose white shirt that hung just off his shoulders, and looked suspiciously like a woman's blouse.<br/>The other man, who appeared to be the most normal looking of the trio, was a tall and gangly dark haired lad, with nothing to outstanding about him, save for the silver pin on his jacket that signified him as a Soldier of God.</p>
<p>"Yes, thank you Anathema," Tracy said with a smile as the three took their respective seats. Anathema gave a nod, already burrying herself back into her book, while Newton filled his plate with bread, and Crowley sank into his chair once again in a way that suggested he hadn't a single human home in his body. Tracy wasn't phased by their behavior in the slightest, suggesting this was a common occurrence in the household. </p>
<p>"An interest in the Occult. Mr Fell surrounded himself with as many books, artifacts, and people as he could get his hands on, hoping to find some connection in them towards a way to end the War." </p>
<p>"And did he?" Aziraphale asked, suddenly intrigued. Surely the answer would be that no, they had not. Because if an end was found to the 150 year old war, work would have spread fast. "And what do you mean by occult people?" </p>
<p>"Unfortunately the answer is no, not 'yet'. We hope to continue our work- I myself am a medium, a door for the spirits to communicate, of you will. Anathema hails from a long family bloodline of witches, and well, Crowley's a demon." </p>
<p>Mediums and Witches, Aziraphale had little issue with. They where still human after all, just a bit more in tune with the olde magick. But demons. Demons where the inherent enemy. Beings of chaos and destruction- creatures all young children are raised to fear- and the majority makeup of Lucifer's Army, the very enemy of the War they where stuck in. And Aziraphale had thought he was the gardner.</p>
<p>Aziraphale was quiet, taking in the information and mulling it about in his brain as he stared at his stew. He could feel all eyes on him, waiting for a reaction. All eyes, except for the demon's. </p>
<p>"How'd he manage to catch you?" Aziraphale asked incredulously, looking right at Crowley. The red haired demon slammed his fist on the table, jingling the silverware, and whipped his head around to glare at Aziraphale, his teeth bared.</p>
<p>"I was not 'caught' by any human" he spat out. Aziraphale looked around the table, only to find Madame Tracy and Anathema's reactions akin to that of a mother who's child has just thrown a tantrum. Only Newton seemed fearful of Crowley's outburst, but he made no move to draw his weapons. </p>
<p>"You're bound," he said in realisation. Crowley gave a noncommittal growl and slumped back into his seat, choosing not to respond to Aziraphale's statement- which was very much correct. <br/>"Okay. So why me? Why am I to inherit all this?" The blonde gestured vaguely to the manor around them. </p>
<p>"Because you where the least likely to give us any trouble." Anathema said, rather bluntly. "Mr Fell had no immediate heirs to his estate. As unmarried women in a sexist world, Tracy and I where unable to take any legal action into claiming ownership, and Newton's ties to the Soldiers only seemed to complicate matters. So we tracked down the only relative who didn't seem to benefit from the War. Plus-" she added, a small knowing smile creeping onto her face. "Tracy found a rather interesting book written titled 'The Affairs of Humans and Demons'. A very steamy read... And the author remained anonymous if I remember correctly. The only copies found where sold at your bookshop I do believe... " </p>
<p>Aziraphale's cheeks where suddenly flushed a bright pink, but he attempted to keep his cool under Anathema's gaze. Tracy stifled a giggle, and Crowley had momentarily stirred from his pouting, curious as to what the two women found amusing. Aziraphale was thankful that at least Newt wasn't mocking him, though he guessed that the man hadn't caught onto what Anathema was referring to. </p>
<p>"I don't believe in censorship, and my store honours that belief by selling everyone's stories- controversial or not." He was only digging his hole deeper. </p>
<p>"What Anathema is trying to say dear-" Tracy said, clearing her throat in an attempt to shop off her case of the giggles. "Is that you have an open mind about certain things. Ideally, we don't want the War to end in a mass genocide, and that seems to be the only solution on General Gabriel's mind." The table grew quiet. </p>
<p>It was no secret that genocide was the plan. After a century and a half of fighting, both sides, the Soldier's of God and Lucifer's Army, had decided that the world would be better off without the other. In truth, nobody could even remember what they'd been fighting for originally.</p>
<p>All the news ever seemed to report where that of demons terrorising, plundering, and raping any village they could get ahold of, followed up by the Soldier's of God successfullly eradicating a whole platoon of demon soldiers. <br/>And if Crowley ever felt compelled to tell his side of the story, of his time serving in the War, he'd recount how he'd witnessed his own brothers and sisters, who had been forced into fighting in the first place, beg God's soldiers for mercy, only to have their throats met with the sharp end of a blade. Neither side was good, so why should one have to die so the other could thrive?</p>
<p>. . .</p>
<p>The group discussed their roles in finer details with Aziraphale as they are their dinner. Anathema and Crowley poured over books of magick and demon lore, double checking with each other on the validity of the spells they found. Tracy communicated with the dead- often deceased soldiers who may hold important intel. Even Newton, who had originally been hired by the Device family to keep Anathema safe and out of trouble, found work in retrieving 'occult' artifacts, though most ended up being fake.<br/>It was slow and tedious work with little to show for as of yet, but the group carried on.</p>
<p>Before he knew it, it was almost midnight, and everyone bid their farewells for the night; Tracy, Anathema, and Newton headed to their rooms in one wing of the manor, while Aziraphale made his way in the opposite direction to the room he'd been given, which he presumed to be the Master Bedroom. </p>
<p>He ascended the stairs, pausing halfway as he realised the shuffling of footsteps wasn't matching up with his own. Aziraphale turned around, only to find that Crowley was behind him, a good distance away, and had stopped too. He peered down at him, seeing his own tony reflection in the dark shades the demon wore. Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder why he kept them on, even now, when the halls where dimly lit, and it surely impaired his vision. </p>
<p>"My Master- the previous one, that is, insisted my room be right by his. Something about escaping, or whatever." <br/>As nonchalant as Crowley attempted to appear, there was a certain weakness about him just then. Perhaps it was how Aziraphale was positioned, many steps higher than the demon, peering down at him. Coupled with the fact that the demon was forced to acknowledge that Aziraphale was in fact, his new Master. Just thinking of it disgusted Aziraphale, but strengthended his ego nonetheless.</p>
<p>"Should I be worried about such activities?" He asked the demon, though he knew if Crowley had any intention of escaping, he wouldn't have brought it up in the first place. What Aziraphale was more concerned about was his own well being. Who was to say the demon wouldn't attempt to strangle him in his sleep? The rest of the group seemed to trust him, but Aziraphale knew a demon being bound only prevented them from using their magick. Crowley was still just as dangerous to Aziraphale as Aziraphale was to him. </p>
<p>A noncommittal shrug, and Crowley smiled a small mischievous smile at Aziraphale, before trudging on up the stairs past him, off to his own room. Aziraphale sighed. He didn't know what exactly he'd gotten himself into in agreeing to all of this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I realised I posted chapter one on November first and it met the requirements of NaNoWriMo so.... I'll try and follow the NaNoWriMo rules for this fic. Chapters will be around 2,000 words long and posted daily. Of not, expect a long juicy chapter the day after that :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Snake Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was well into the afternoon when Aziraphale finally awoke, the last couple of sleepless days catching up to him. Aziraphale crawled out of bed, squinting in annoyance at the obnoxiously bright sunlight that shone through the windows. Someone had come into his room earlier that morning, leaving a tray with jellied toast and a cup of tea for him. Both where cold by now, but Aziraphale consumed then anyways, his stomach already grumbling. Still slightly disheveled from his deep sleep, Aziraphale made his way out of his room and downstairs. </p><p>There was a faint commotion that could be heard upon Aziraphale arriving downstairs, and he followed the sounds of cheering and objects clattering against each other. Eventually, he found himself stepping outside into what appeared to be a little courtyard. </p><p>Similar to the interior of the manor, the courtyard appeared to be better taken care of than the building's exterior, even sporting a few lush looking hedges that lined the walkway, and a long stretch of healthy looking grass, if not a little trampled looking. </p><p>Newton Pulsifer sat in a chair out of the harm's way of the bright sun, tucked under the little patio. When the soldier caught sight of Aziraphale, he smiled and gestured for the man to come join him. </p><p>"Anathema and Tracy headed into town about an hour ago- something about needing more herbs, though with Tracy tagging along they're bound to come back with clothes no doubt." He chuckled as Aziraphale pulled up a chair. </p><p>Aziraphale looked towards the cause for the commotion he'd heard from inside, and was surprised to find Crowley with a rather large stick in hand, swinging wildly at a young boy who appeared to be no more than twelve in age. The child shared the same wild look that Crowley brandished, and held a somehow even larger stick than the demon. There was a loud CRACK! as the sticks collided with force. </p><p>"That's Adam Young," Newt explained, watching as the young curly haired blonde stumbled back for a moment, regained his footing, and quickly began to swing his stick wildly and without hesitation, gaining a rather dramatic shout from Crowley.<br/>
"He tends to the horses and livestock. A good kid, really- been here with us for a few years now. Keeps Crowley from loosing his mind out of boredom, if I'm being honest." </p><p>Another loud crack of sticks colliding, a shout from the demon, and the two went tumbling into the grass, followed by a fit of laughter. A little black and white dog came bounding out from one of the bushes to the two, yapping it's head off as it tried to wedge itself between the two. </p><p>"Newt!" the boy shouted, sitting up on his knees and looking over at the two men. "Crowley broke my sword! Tell him that's not fair!" He got up, holding the snapped stick in question, and made his way over to them, grass and twigs poking out of his hair and clinging to his stablehand clothes. The small dog bounded after the boy, Crowley following close behind.</p><p>"It's not my fault he picked a weak weapon- you heard me tell him beforehand that the bigger it is the easier it'll snap didn't you Newton?" </p><p>Aziraphale couldn't help but smile as the two lined up infront of Newt, waiting with rapt attention to hear what his verdict was on the fairness of their 'swordfight'. </p><p>"A good soldier knows how to use his head in battle, Adam. Crowley may have broken your sword, but do you know what these are now?" Newt leaned forwards in his chair, taking the two halves of the stick from Adam's hands. The boy looked at Newt with wide eyes, listening intently for whatever knowledge he was about to have bestowed upon him. "They're daggers now!"<br/>
The child's mouth formed an 'O' in realisation, and quickly grabbed the sticks back, weilding one in each hand as he started to jab at the air. </p><p>"It's your turn to fight me, Newt!" Adam declared, running off back to the center of the courtyard, where he and Crowley had presumably started their fight.<br/>
Pulsifer rolled his eyes, but stood up from his seat, taking the still intact 'sword' from Crowley, and making his way over to where the blonde boy was. </p><p>Crowley stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the two for a moment with the slightest hint of a smile on his face, before he turned back to Aziraphale, taking the seat Newton had just previously occupied.</p><p>It took a moment for Aziraphale the lack of dark spectacles on Crowley's face today- but when he did, he found he couldn't take his eyes away from the man. </p><p>Crowley had very quickly assumed a relaxed position in the chair, his seat positioned so that soft rays of sunlight still managed to peak through, lighting up  parts of his auburn hair turning it into more of a fiery red. The demon's eyes where closed as he basked in the warmth of the sun, and Aziraphale seized the moment to admire the freckles that danced across the man's cheeks and nose- most of which had been hidden by the wide frames of Crowley's glasses the last time they'd met. </p><p>As if Crowley could feel the man's eyes on him, he opened his eyes suddenly, glancing at Aziraphale from across the table. For a moment, Aziraphale assumed the bright yellow he'd seen had been a trick of the light, illuminating Crowley's eyes momentarily. But he continued to stare, the demon holding his gaze, and Aziraphale realised that no, Crowley's eyes where very much yellow, with a hint of orange, and slotted pupils like that of a snake. Azira couldn't help but let out a soft gasp. Crowley smirked, and turned back to the sun, closing his eyes again. </p><p>"The last Master didn't care for them all that much either. Reminded him of my 'wicked origins'." Crowley quoted, recounting the humorous quote. "Hence the glasses." </p><p>"But you didn't choose to wear them today?" </p><p>"Couldn't take the chance of ruining my tan." </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, giving a small 'ah' in acknowledgement. He wasn't sure what to make of the demon yet.<br/>
It was clear Crowley was quite the character. Although his magick had been bound, he still  retained a dignity and self respect about him. Aziraphale had once had the displeasure of meeting a nobleman who'd recently purchased an enslaved demon. It was there that he'd learned the process. Demon's could only have their magick bound and taken away by their own kind. Humans neither had the knowledge nor the power for such a thing.</p><p>Forced into servitude by their own kind, typically as punishment for abandoning rank in Lucifer's Army- enslaved demons where a form of ranking. The more slaves one had, the more important they where. Aziraphale likened it to hiss own human culture and haveing servants. The more people you could afford to pay to wait on you hand and foot, the wealthier, and therefore more important to society, one was. Humans had evolved past enslaving their own kind of course, but not other species, it seemed.</p><p>"Could I have a better look at them?" Aziraphale asked after some time sitting in an awkward silence. He was intrigued, and hadn't found them to be all that 'wicked' at his first glance.</p><p>Crowley slightly opened on eye and peered over at the blonde haired man with intrigue. Most found his eyes so unsettling, and preferred speaking to him with his spectacles on, Anathema, Madame Tracy, and Newton included. The only exception to that constant was Adam, who thought they where 'cool'. But children often had a funny way of looking at things like that.</p><p>Aziraphale looked at him expectantly. Crowley gave in rather easily since he'd chosen to ask him politely, as opposed to ordering the demon to do as he wished.<br/>
He shifted sideways in his seat to look directly at Aziraphale, and locked eyes with the man. </p><p>They where transfixed. Intertwined in each other's gaze. Crowley found himself swallowed up in the deep blue waters that where Aziraphale's eyes, an urge tugging at him to dive deeper, to explore that which remained unknown to mankind, even though he knew he'd surely drown. He was engulfed in curiosity, and as he dove deeper, another emotion began to tug at him, starting out as a small tickle in his gut, until it felt as though Crowley's insides where being twisted and toyed with, and his chest was being kicked in. Crowley was feeling love for the first time. It wasn't his own emotion- the demon hadn't thought he was capable of feeling such a foreign concept, and yet here he was, having somehow tapped into the purest form of an emotion he'd never even known existed. It was agony.</p><p>Aziraphale felt just the opposite. As he looked into Crowley's wide yellow eyes, he saw the flickering flames in the orange flecks that where scattered about the irises. His mind screamed for him to look away, that these demon eyes where something no creature should have to look upon, or else they would surely die. But the flames only served to draw Aziraphale in further, like a moth to light. He felt pain. Not the physical kind, where wounds where created and slowly healed, but internal pain, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, a gaping hole that seemed devoid of any happiness or pleasure. And then rage settled into the void pain left behind, and Aziraphale found himself angrier than he'd ever been in his life. Angry and enraged that  something had been taken from him- something that was a part of him. Inside him. He didn't know what it was, but it left him feeling incomplete. He wanted it to stop. These feeling he was experiencing where too unbearable, too much for him to handle, as the flames burned brighter around him, engulfing him in so much emotion that he couldn't see anymore, only a bright white light. </p><p>"We're gonna go in and try to wash up, are you two alright out here?" </p><p>Newton's voice rang out to the two of them, and Aziraphale found himself suddenly grounded again, back in his chair on the patio out back. He quickly looked away from Crowley, attempting to blink away what he'd just experienced. Infront of him stood Newton and Adam, who both looked as though they'd fallen into a puddle of mud. Neither looked as though they'd seen any of what to Aziraphale or Crowley had just experienced. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah. We're fine," Aziraphale said dismissively, still a bit lost and hardly comprehending what had been said to him.<br/>
Newton gave a curious look at Azira, but said nothing, and headed on inside with a muddy Adam following close behind. </p><p>Aziraphale cast a glance toward Crowley, but the demon had resumed his sunbathing with his eyes closed. The new tenseness in his shoulders did not go unnoticed, however. Not another word was shared between the two for the rest of the afternoon.</p><p>. . .</p><p>Anathema and Madame Tracy arrived just in time for dinner to be served, resulting in the whole group having to listen to Tracy gush over all the new dresses and scarves and other fashionable accessories that where for sale, but they didn't get because the shop owners where asking for completely outrageous prices. All in all, it was an enjoyable meal with enjoyable company, and as Aziraphale drifted off to sleep, he had nearly forgotten all about his odd encounter with a Crowley in the courtyard earlier that day. Until he awoke that night to an odd sensation. </p><p>Aziraphale awoke very abruptly, and sat right up in his bed, his heart beating rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. He'd had a night terror of some kind, though the knowledge of what exactly it was that had stsrtled him so much was already slipping his mind. His chest ached- not an internal pain, but on the top of his skin, as if someone had snuck into his room with a hot branding iron and branded him right there. It was preposterous, but Aziraphale did unbutton his sleep shirt, only to find nothing there. Slowly, as his sleepiness wore away, so did the pain, only leaving a full sting after a few minutes. </p><p>As Aziraphale contemplated curling back up into bed, a loud groan could be heard through the walls next door. He thought he'd heard something similar before when he first awoke, though he'd then written it off as a part of his nightmare. Now, as the groaning continued, followed by the occasional shout of incoherent words, Aziraphale knew it was coming from Crowley's room. He waited, debating with himself on if he should check up on the demon. After all, Crowley had eluded to the fact that he may get up to no good if left alone, though these shouts where more and more frequently beginning to sound like the demon was on trouble- pain even. </p><p>Aziraphale heard what he thought was a muffled plea for help- something he couldn't imagine the prideful demon would say, and decided he'd had enough. </p><p>Barefoot and with his sleep shirt still half unbuttoned, Aziraphale crept out of his room and into the hallway. The shouts where louder now, and clearly coming from Crowley's room nearby, the door of which had been left cracked open. He knocked lightly, letting his presence be known, incase the demon wished not to be disturbed.<br/>
There was no answer, only a few words mumbled incoherently, and the sound of blankets being thrashed about. Aziraphale took in a breath, and pushed the door open.</p><p>The room was half illuminated by the moonlight that shone brightly through the window, which was half open, a light breeze making it's way through, filling up the room with an uncomfortable chill. Aziraphale looked around the room- which was much smaller than his own, and unexpectedly bare in furniture and decoration, only sporting a small dresser, nightstand, and the twin size bed Crowley was currently laying in, his unconscious self thrashing about particularly violently. </p><p>Aziraphale stepped over the blankets strewn about the floor, uncertain as to what he should do. The demon was clearly having a nightmare, one that seemed to be causing him great distress. There was a moment of hesitation from Aziraphale. Who knew what anger would be unleashed upon him if he where to awaken the creature from his slumber right now. He took this time to get a better look at Crowley. </p><p>The demon was sprawled out on his back in the bed, his hair a dark tangled mess. With his hair pushed back and no glasses on the demon's face, Aziraphale had a better look at just how sharp and striking the man's features where. In fact, as he looked over the demon, his whole body seemed to be made up of sharp angles. Human for the most part in anatomy, but skinnier, and longer limbed. And then Aziraphale saw the markings...</p><p>Crowley was stretched out on the bed, bedsheets tangled up at his feet and on the floors leaving most of his figure exposed. He had fallen asleep shirtless, and wore a pair of simple linen trousers that sat loosely on his waist. The room was dark, illuminated only by what little light the moon and stars gave off, so it took a moment for Aziraphale to notice the intricate symbols that covered Crowley's chest, snaking their way around his upper arms, and seeming to stop just above his hips. They where a pale pink in colour, and as Aziraphale turned his head to get a better look, he realised the symbols seemed to welp up from Crowley's skin, and realisation hit Aziraphale. These where the symbols that bound Crowley, carved or burned into his skin- Azira didn't know the details of how it was done, and preferred not to dwell on such a sickening thought- to render his magick useless. </p><p>Crowley let out another plea for help, kicking at the bedsheets in desperation. Demon or not, Aziraphale didn't find pleasure in seeing such suffering, so he attempted to wake him. </p><p>"Crowley. Crowley dear,"<br/>
Nothing. Aziraphale's words failed to puncture through the dream he was having. He waited a moment, repeating Crowley's name a few more times, before deciding to gently shake him awake. He placed a hand on Crowley's chest, above one of the main symbols carved into the demon's chest that resembled that of a snake. As his skin made contact, Aziraphale felt a hot flash of searing pain, not on his hand as one would assume, but in his chest, the same pain place he'd awoke to hurting just minutes ago in his chambers. The same place he was touching Crowley now. Quickly, Aziraphale drew his hand away stumbling back in shock. Crowley's bright yellow eyes shot open, suddenly awake. He sat up quickly, catching sight of Aziraphale, who had tripped and fallen to the floor, and he pressed himself against the wall his bed was pushed up against, attempting to get as far away from Aziraphale as possible. He hissed, fangs glinting in the light as he starred down at at Aziraphale, his yellow eyes unblinking. </p><p>'This,' Aziraphale thought, his heart racing in fear, 'is what a real demon looks like.'</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For those of you who might be a little confused on Adam's description- I wrote him as he appears in the book bc I like that version of him better :) He's still very similar to tv Adam, just a slight change in apearence is all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Melded</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn't uncommon for Crowley to awake abruptly from a nightmare- or rather, a memory. Demon's didn't have dreams, and therefore couldn't have nightmares either. What they could have, where memories. Memories of the horrendous things that had happened to them in their lifetime, memories of the pain they endured.</p><p>It didn't happen every night for Corwley, he would have offed himself long ago of he was cursed to relive his worst moments every time he went to bed. The demon rather enjoyed sleeping. </p><p>Though it was Hell to relive his past, had Crowley found that he was a bit of an expert in pushing things deep down inside him to forget. In hindsight, this was probably the very behavior that had led him to having such terrible night terrors, but it was a much better alternative than to face his issues head on. So he would wake up and take a few deep breaths, grounding himself as he regained a foot in reality, and he'd shove it all back down inside of him. He found tending to plants helped calm his nerves- he'd never been permitted to go further than the small courtyard out side, so he'd converted the sunroom into a mini greenroom of sorts. He'd go there after one of his nights of remembering, so he could forget again. </p><p>This particular time, he'd been placed back when he was bound into servitude, when the demons he once considered his friends tied him down and sliced into his flesh, carving sigils deep into him, assuring that they would never heal well enough to fade away. It was one of his more frequent memories, and no doubt one of the most traumatising. So it came as a bit of a surprise when this time, as Crowley remembered the events that had taken place, another figure had appeared, more of a glowing white form really, but still vaguely man-shaped. It reached a blurry, glowing hand to his chest where Hastur was happily carving away a snake, the centerpiece to Crowley's bindings. Hastur seemed unphased, as if he couldn't see the figure at all, and as those white ghost like fingers touched his skin, Crowley felt the pain fade away. He closed his eyes and then suddenly, he was awake, staring up into the darkness at Aziraphale, his Master, who had evidentially been trying to wake him up. </p><p>Crowley hissed, scrambling to get as far away from the man as he could. He hadn't gotten very far seeing as his bed was already pushed against one wall, but he'd evidentially done well enough at scaring the living daylights out of Aziraphale. </p><p>Crowley pulled one of the bed sheets up to his chest, his teeth still bared. The demon had taken great strides to hide his markings from his cohorts, and it had taken a year for Anathema to convince Crowley to even take a quick peak at them for research purposes. Crowley had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in his life, and he didn't like it. </p><p>"What the fuck" He growled, eyes glaring at Aziraphale unblinking. </p><p>Aziraphale looked up at him, opening and closing his mouth multiple times, hoping something, anything would come out, but he didn't know what to say. <br/>"You sounded like you where in trouble," he eventually managed to get out. Crowley scoffed at the mere suggestion that he would be in trouble, but deep down he knew the human had woken him up before the worst parts began. </p><p>"What's that?" Crowley said, his eyes adjusting to the darkness so he could see Aziraphale much better now. <br/>"What's what?" he asked dumbly, not having any idea what Crowley was talking about.<br/>"THAT." </p><p>Crowley was referring to the faint etchings of a twisted snake, smack dab in the center of Aziraphale's chest. An exact replica of one of Crowley's own markings, right down to the placement and size. This was all the more concerning for a multitude of reasons. </p><p>Aziraphale looked down to where Crowley was now staring at. It was hard for his own human eyes to see, but once focused, he inhaled sharply in shock. Slowly reaching a hand up to his chest, Aziraphale touched the snake lightly with the tips of his fingers, and Crowley swore he could feel it. </p><p>"What," Crowley started, concern and anger seeping into his voice. "Is my name doing on your chest?" </p><p>. . . </p><p>Anathema Device had been having a lovely dream, and things where just starting to get rather heated between her and a certain body guard of hers, when she found her dreaming rudely interrupted by someone knocking at her door. She let out an annoyed 'hmf' and had half a mind to ignore whoever was at her door and go back to sleep, when she heard two muffled voices discussing something, followed by more knocking, this time louder and more desperate. <br/>"Alright alright! I'll be there in a moment!" Anathema yelled out. <br/>She tossed her duvet cover dramatically off off, and slipped into a silky blue robe with her initials embroidered on it. There was another knock. Not even bothering to find her glasses, and fully prepared to hex whoever was on the other side, she unlocked and swung the door open- only to have Crowley, dragging Aziraphale firmly by the wrist, quickly push past her without a word of explanation. The demon shut the door and locked it back, and Anathema took a moment analyse the situation infront of her. </p><p>Aziraphale stood awkwardly where Crowley had left him. His pale blonde hair was still a tangled mess of curls from sleeping, and he seemed both confused and tired. His sleep shirt was half unbuttoned, and Anathema noted how one of his hands kept reaching to touch something on his chest, though she wasn't close enough to see what it was. </p><p>"What's all of this about then?" She asked, crossing her arms as she turned to Crowley. She did her best not to look at the markings that riddled the demon's bare chest- Crowley had never been keen on her seeing them before, and as curious as Anathema was, she was going to respect that wish. For now, at least. So she attempted to keep eye contact with him, only to find that Crowley had also seemed to have forgotten his glasses with his shirt.</p><p>For once, Crowley seemed at a loss for words to explain the situation. Anathema waited patiently, and when it became obvious that Crowley was unable to speak at the moment, Aziraphale broke the silence of the room by clearing his throat. </p><p>"We seem to have run into an issue of the uh, 'occult' nature..." Crowley narrowed his eyes at his meandering about. Aziraphale took the hint. <br/>"That is to say, somehow Crowley's name is on my chest." </p><p>"His what?" </p><p>"Well that's what he says it is, at least. Between you and me, I think it resembles a snake." <br/>Anathema turned to Crowley, even more confused now. </p><p>"My name. My sigil. A pictorial signature, if you will. Regardless, it's uniquely specific to demons, and I don't know how he got it, or what this means."</p><p>"And neither of you where doing anything out of the ordinary prior?" <br/>The two shrugged. Anathema pinched the bridge of her nose, furrowing her brow in frustration. Had she been the spiritual type, she would have prayed for them to be spared from their own stupidity.</p><p>"Well it isn't as if you two got blasted at the Tadfield pub and decided to get matching tattoos- there has to have been something you both did! Was there anything strange before this?" Crowley and Aziraphale cast glances at each other, before quickly looking back down at the floor.</p><p>"Aziraphale touched me," </p><p>"Oi! I was waking you up from a bad dream! Don't make it weird. And besides! My chest hurt before that, when I woke up to you screaming!" </p><p>"I didn't ask for help from a human! And I know you're up to something nefarious, especially after that thing you did to me when I looked into your eyes."</p><p>"What I DID?! That was clearly a demonic trick of your own devising!" </p><p>During the pairs' bickering, Anathema had grabbed her glasses off of her dresser and put them on, so she could get a better look at the 'situation' on Aziraphale's chest.<br/>Sure enough, faintly etched between Aziraphale's pecs, was the same twisted snake that Crowley bore- although Aziraphale's was very white, as though it was a healed scar from a wound he'd received ages ago, while Crowley's own was still a very prominent reddish pink in colour. Odd. </p><p>"Describe what that was like, Crowley." Anathema said calmly, moving across the room to thumb over the covers of a few books and journals on her shelf.</p><p>"Agonising. Painful. It was like I was being tugged by some unknown force to go deeper, go further into the unknown. And I had this overwhelming feeling of... Something come over me. Involuntarily." </p><p>"Emotions?" Aziraphale offered, quirking an eyebrow.</p><p>Anathema looked between the two. Whatever Crowley had described must have fit what Aziraphale had felt too. Now THAT was helping her narrow it down.<br/>"What emotions did you feel Aziraphale?" She asked, flipping through a particularly worn out journal with scribbly handwriting.</p><p>"Pain... and rage." He said after a moment of contemplation. "And loss. All connected to each other- and to the extreme. It was as if a part of my identity had been stripped away, and I was left to wallow in the hurt, until that hurt turned into anger." </p><p>"Quite the wordsmith, aren't we?" Crowley mocked, rolling his eyes </p><p>"I'd refrain from the teasing for now Crowley. It's your emotions he's feeling, after all." The room fell silent, and Anathema could feel both eyes on her now, expecting some sort of explanation for what she'd just said. <br/>"We'll have to test the theory of course- there's hardly any notes about it in my book, but..." <br/>The witch rifled through her own sewing kit, triumphantly producing a needle from the unorganized mess of fabrics and thread after a moment of struggle. Aziraphale and Crowley gave each other puzzled looks, and in their moment of distraction, Anathema pricked Aziraphale's arm with the needle. </p><p>"Ow!" both men exclaimed in unison. Anathema looked rather satisfied with her conclusions. </p><p>"It appears you boys have gone and mind melded." </p><p>"Mind what?" </p><p>"Mind melded," she repeated to them, busying herself with putting back the things she'd just gotten out. "In Leiman's terms, you're connected, physically and emotionally it seems. Through accident or from some other unknown force I'm not sure of- my books only have a few vague accounts of this. But that's what's happened. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to get at least a few more hours of sleep on before it's light outside." She began to shoo the two towards the door, ready to be rid of them. </p><p>"Well what are we supposed to do until you fix it?" Asked Aziraphale, who was wringing his hands very nervously. He didn't much like the idea of having anyone connected to him in such a way, let alone Crowley. <br/>Anathema let out a short laugh. </p><p>"I'm flattered by your faith in my abilities, but I don't think there is any fixing this. Now, shoo shoo." <br/>And with that, Anathema was able to herd the two out into the hallway, and quickly shut her door on them, locking it for insurance.</p><p>"What should we do now?" Aziraphale asked, shuffling his feet as he looked at the floor. The two where thoroughly disappointed in the lack of solutions Anathema had given them, though it was fair not to expect the witch to have the answer to everything. </p><p>"I need alcohol. Extraordinary amounts of alcohol." Crowley proclaimed loudly, and he started off in the direction of the wine cellar. Aziraphale followed closely behind, reckoning a drink or two would help the situation at hand.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Crowley knows what a boner is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wine bottles littered the floor of the cellar, most only half drunk from, as Crowley insisted they give every last one a taste. Demon or not, this logic resulted in the pair having gotten drunk much quicker, until they didn't care for how long the wine had aged and where guzzling down whatever bottle was already open. </p><p>Aziraphale was the first to tap out, his head so foggy of a mess that it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realise he'd actually fallen over. After a few failed attempts to sit up against a barrel like he had been doing, the blonde opted for simply lying on the cool ground. </p><p>Crowley thankfully still possessed his basic motor skills, and managed to swipe the bottle from Aziraphale's hand before he could spill the rest on his clothes, creating a permanent stain. </p><p>"Thnk youuu" Aziraphale mumbled, peeking up to see that Crowley had decided to take Aziraphale's previous position sitting against the barrel, bringing them much closer together. </p><p>"Not a problem at all Master." </p><p>Aziraphale furrowed his brows at that, scowling at the ceiling. "Why d'you insist on calling me that," he asked, doing his best to annunciate through his slurred speech, which Aziraphale was now becoming increasingly aware of as he tried to converse. </p><p>"What? 'Master'?" a happy hum from Aziraphale, which Crowley interpreted as a yes. Crowley scrunched up his face, contemplating his answer for a moment.<br/>
"Itsss the rules. 'M not allowed to call you by your real name."</p><p>"Why?" </p><p>"Having someone's name means ya hold power over them." </p><p>"But I call you Crowley" </p><p>"And I'm your slave." </p><p>Aziraphale grew quiet at that. It was something he still hadn't grown accustomed to- the whole concept of slavery. Being a slave owner. It didn't sit well within his stomach, but he knew letting Crowley go was out of the question. So here he was, caught in limbo. </p><p>"You coul' always fall me something different. Like a nickname!" </p><p>Crowley quirked an eyebrow at that suggestion, and couldn't help but smile at the absurd suggestion he was making. 'Master' had worked with everyone that owned him prior, and he didn't really see the issue with it. But he decided to humor Aziraphale.</p><p>"And what would you suggest I call you?" </p><p>"You're suppose' to pick, that's the whole point. Something you as- assoc-" he grumbled, trying to get the word out properly, before settling on a shortened version. " 'Sociate me with." </p><p>Crowley gave a little 'hmm' in contemplation. It didn't seem too terrible of an offer idea, and he supposed as long as it wasn't apart of his name in anyway, he could get away with it. But what would he call him? Renaming Aziraphale was difficult, and picking a name based solely off his looks seemed a bit objectifying. These demon struggled to think of what to associate him with... except- </p><p>"What about 'angel'?" </p><p>"Angel?" Aziraphale asked, intrigued. He tried propping himself up on his elbows to look at Crowley, who's cheeks had taken on a red flush now. Crowley blamed it on the alcohol. </p><p>"Ya know. Like the Angel's Trumpets. You tried touching them the first day you got here. If you don't like it I could try and think if something else, I just thought-" </p><p>"No no, I like it" Aziraphale said hurriedly, a reassuring smile on his face. </p><p>Crowley relaxed his shoulders he hadn't realised he'd been tensing up, and the two fell back into a comfortable silence. Crowley continued to sip on the wine bottle in his hand, half expecting Aziraphale to have fallen into a deep sleep, until he heard the man clear his throat. </p><p>"I don't think they're wicked, ya know..." </p><p>"Huh?" </p><p>"I don't think they're wicked," Aziraphale said with more certainty this time. He sat up, still a little wobbly, but centered himself, and looked at Crowley, meeting his yellow eyes.<br/>
"You said you wore your glasses to hide your wicked eyes. I wouldn't call them that. I wouldn't call you that either,"</p><p>Crowley was taken aback, almost started into sobriety for a moment. He watched silently as Aziraphale picked up a bottle and scooted over to where Crowley sat, sitting side by side against the barrel with the demon, their legs and shoulders pressed against each other. No one had dared come this close to Crowley in ages, and never a human. It was peculiar, to say the least, and Crowley felt his heart rate accelerate in... anticipation? He couldn't quite put a finger on how he was feeling, and for a moment he wondered if this was another one of Aziraphale's emotions, but he seemed as at ease as ever. </p><p>"Statistically speaking, it wouldn't make sense for every demon to be bad..." </p><p>"You're drunk, angel."  </p><p>Aziraphale hummed in agreement at that statement, taking a long swig from the wine bottle in his hands. Crowley assumed when he finished he would lean back against the barrel they where sharing, so you can imagine his surprised when he felt Aziraphale's head settle into Crowley's bare shoulder, fluffy blonde hair tickling at the demon's neck. </p><p>Crowley felt an odd pang in his chest, one that urged him not to move away from Aziraphale's touch, so he didn't. He sat there with the human on his shoulder, and it wasn't long before Aziraphale was softly snoring. Gently, Crowley took the wine bottle from his sleepy grasp, putting it aside with his own. And slowly, Crowley leaned his head to the side resting against Aziraphale's. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him. </p><p>. . . </p><p>Aziraphale woke the next morning to a throbbing headache and a sore bum. He groaned and opened his eyes, suddenly remembering the night before as he looked around the cellar where he'd apparently fallen asleep, still proper up against the barrel. The cobblestone floor had given his ass no comfort. Stretching, he stood up, purposefully cracking a few joints to find some relief. </p><p>He looked around, and was surprised to find that the mess of bottles he remembered had been cleaned up. Surely it hadn't been Crowley who had tidied everything up, had it? Curious (and thirsty), Aziraphale ventured back up the stairs and out of the wine cellar. </p><p>He made his way up to his room to get dressed, having no clue what time of day it was and fearing that he'd overslept once again. He huffed, looking at his empty suitcase, remembering the limited clothes he'd packed. He really did need to send for his things. Not wanting to wear something dirty again, Aziraphale turned to the closet of his bedroom, and was thankful to find it was still filled with clothes from his predecessor. Their sizes varied, but Aziraphale was able to find a pair of dark trousers and a large cream coloured jumper that he fit comfortably into. More awake and alert now, his throbbing headache *slightly* lessoned, Aziraphale made his way back downstairs to look for the rest of the Fell Manor residents.</p><p>He found them in the library, a room Aziraphale had cought sight of his first day on the grounds, but he hadn't had the chance to look over the vast collection of reading material yet. </p><p>"Morning deary," Tracy said, not looking up from the spread of tarot cards she had before her, but her tone told Aziraphale she was happy for him to be joining them all the same. Anathema was sat at a desk in a corner of the room, surrounded by at least half a dozen open books, and she seemed to be fully captivated by whatever it was she was reading.<br/>
Crowley and Newton sat on the floor of opposite ends of a coffee table, a pile of cards between them and a few in their hands. Crowley hissed in frustration as he pulled a card from the pile face down between them, clearly not liking it's numbers. Newt looked up at Aziraphale with a friendly smile. "You want me to deal you in?" </p><p>"Oh no thank you," he said, appreciative at Newt's attempt to include him. "I was actually hoping to steal Crowley away for bit?" Newt shrugged, looking over at Crowley.</p><p>"Fine by me, he's whooping my arse anyways" </p><p>"You're damn right I am." </p><p>The two cleaned up their game of cards, and Newton had gladly made his way over to where Anathema sat, determined to pester her until he gave her attention. Crowley stood up and met Aziraphale at the doorway, his dark shades hiding whatever emotion he was feeling at that moment. </p><p>"I was hoping we could talk about the certain uh... circumstances, that we've found ourselves in. Over a walk if you'd like, it's lovely outside." </p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley had very different ideas of what 'lovely' meant when it came to the weather. For Crowley, it meant the sun shining from all crevices, not a cloud in sight to cover the pale blue sky, and certainly NOT what it was now, where the air was filled with a constant breeze and the sky had taken on a light grey color for the coming autumn months. But the idea of a walk, to make it past the courtyard- further than anywhere he'd been permitted to go in years- was much too good of an offer to pass up. Crowley grabbed an extra coat, and they where off.</p><p>"Have you spoken to Anathema yet?"<br/>
Aziraphale waited until they'd reached the dirt path leading into the forest that served as a sort of border for property, the two walking side by side at a comfortable pace they'd set for themselves. </p><p>"Briefly. She scolded me for the both of us for having woken her, and then said she'd do what she could. But we shouldn't get our hopes up." Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, but he knew he wasn't fooling anybody. They where both greatly disappointed.</p><p>"Right." Aziraphale said with a sniff. "I rather think we should be keeping tabs on each other throughout all of this then. Swapping information. What emotions we feel, when we feel them, refraining from intentionally causing ourselves physical harm-" </p><p>Crowley snorted at that statement. As if he'd purposefully harm himself. He was a demon, yes, but extent of his sins was laziness. </p><p>"I'll keep a log," Aziraphale said, perking up at the idea. He'd finally found something for himself to do. "What have you felt so far? We'll see what the limits of this thing is. Anything new? Have you been able to tell the difference?"</p><p>Crowley kicked up little clouds of dirt as he walked. Aside from their shared physical pain, there had been one emotion that he knew for sure was not his, nagging from the back of his head, popping up at random times.</p><p>"Well angel," he paused, looking to Aziraphale to see if he remembered the nickname he'd allowed Crowley to call him last night in their drunkenness, but the blonde man seemed unfased, so he continued. "There's one hideously human emotion I get off and on. Dunno what to call it. It's like... happiness, but so overwhelming it makes your chest hurt. But it isn't that, I know what happiness is- or at least being content- this is different. Overwhelmingly so." <br/>
He turned to Aziraphale, a confused look on his face. "Is this a different form of pain for humans? Like... So happy it hurts? That seems like something your lot would have." </p><p>Aziraphale met Crowley's gaze with an incredulous look.<br/>
"Crowley... Do you mean love?"<br/>
He scoffed. </p><p>"I know what a boner feels like, angel." </p><p>Aziraphale was set into a fit of laughter so debilitating that they had to pause their walk, Aziraphale apologizing through gasps for air as he tried to calm himself again. Crowley really didn't know what he'd said to put the man in such a state. </p><p>"Crowley dear, that's not what 'love' is, not technically at least." </p><p>"Then why do humans say they 'love' someone they want to fornicate with?" </p><p>"Goodness Crowley, really?" Aziraphale sighed, reminding himself that they where from to very different upbringings. "Where you come from, do two demons ever take an interest in each other, and only each other?"</p><p>Crowley shook his head 'no'. </p><p>"Then how do you reproduce?" </p><p>"Fornication." </p><p>"Good Lord- okay we're going to forget about that right now." This conversation was an absolute trainwreck for Aziraphale. Crowley however, was having the time of his life.</p><p>"Love is... Things that bring you pride and happiness, devoid of any sin. It's a pure and wholesome feeling, which explains why you've never felt it before, I suppose." </p><p>"What are things you love?" Crowley was intrigued. Aziraphale's attempt at explaining something as simple as an emotion only opened up a whole box of more questions Crowley had for humans and their odd customs. </p><p>"Well, everything really. Crepes, hot coco, reading a good book late at night by the fireplace, simply living." Realisation dawned on Aziraphale.<br/>
"I imagine that's why you feel it. I suppose I'm always loving something. Just as you consistently feel trapped and angry." </p><p>Crowley stiffened. He was beginning to realise he would have much preferred it if they only shared a physical connection. It didn't feel good to have someone else rummaging around on your feelings. Still, he lied.<br/>
"I don't." </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, knowing very well Crowley wasn't telling the truth. He'd felt his own random bursts of the demon's emotions a few times already. They had been crippling, only lasting a minute or so, but Aziraphale knew if he had to deal with such things all hours of the day, it would have sent him spiraling onto a depression. Deep down, Aziraphale wondered if he could help Crowley.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little 'arrested development' reference thrown in there for y'all :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things escalate, and the Them step in to help.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's been months since I last posted,, I lowkey lost motivation and then forgot about ao3 as I got busy with other things. But! I reread what I had written and plan on continuing this fic, and editing old chapters and their horendous typos :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The two walked along the little dirt trail, soon making their way under the stretch of trees, and the shrubbery become more prominent at their feet. It was clear that this path hadn't been taken in some time, and if Crowley was feeling so inclined, he could easily have run away, losing himself in the thick overgrowth. The thought had crossed his mind, though it was more of an intrusive thought than anything else. He didn't feel the urge to run, not right now at least. For now, he was happily content with taking in the new scenery and inspecting the odd weed flowers that popped up here and there. Crowley did have to wonder though, was he really happy? Or was this another trick, where Aziraphale's own happiness had crept into him, sedating his other true emotions? Crowley didn't like not knowing.</p>
<p>"So how exactly did Lord Fell acquire you?" Aziraphale asked out of the blue. Crowley internally groaned, knowing the question of his existence would come up eventually.</p>
<p>"He bought me. Same as any slave- though I fetch a pretty penny more." </p>
<p>"And how exactly did... THAT person acquire you?" <br/>Crowley glared at Aziraphale. His darkened shades hid his actual glare, but Aziraphale could feel it's effect all the same.</p>
<p>"I know what you're trying to ask. Don't piddle around, simply ask it." </p>
<p>Aziraphale swallowed, suddenly looking much more nervous about questioning the demon. "How does one, er, come to have your magic bound?" </p>
<p>"We prefer to call it 'falling'." He noted the confused look on Aziraphale's face, and sighed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. It was clear the nobleman knew very little about demons and their practices. </p>
<p>"It's called 'falling' because you've fallen from Lucifer's ranks. Now the lowest of the low, not even worthy of a rank in society. As for how; well there are plenty of ways to fall. Abandoning ranks, killing another demon, conspiring against Lucifer, the list goes on. The only punishments really are being enslaved, or death. It's the only way to keep a loyal army." </p>
<p>"Yes but, how did YOU come to such a punishment?" </p>
<p>Crowley looked away suddenly interested in what was ahead of them on the trail. He was silent for so long, Aziraphale assumed the demon didn't want to talk about it, which was only further backed up by the sadness shared between them, which soon festered into anger. </p>
<p>"Officially, I abandoned my rank to commit treasonous acts." </p>
<p>"You helped my side?" </p>
<p>"I helped a child as their village was being burned to the ground. My orders were to make sure everyone there burned. But children choose no sides on this war of ours, or at least, they shouldn't."</p>
<p>Aziraphale nodded, now realising why Crowley had been so cooperative thus far with their group. Crowley had seen the horrors of the war, even had a hand in them, and when he showed an ounce of compassion, he'd been stripped of his freedom and sold around, until he managed to make it into the hands of humans who used his existence as a status of wealth. </p>
<p>"If it had been I," Aziraphale said, stepping over a large tree root growing into the path. "In your place, that is. I think I'd grow to loath both sides. And I would have assuredly let me touch that poisonous plant the first day I got here." </p>
<p>The hint of a small smile crossed Crowley's face. <br/>"Well then Angel, it's a good thing I'm the demon and you're the human." </p>
<p>"Yes. Yes I suppose it is." </p>
<p>Another moment of silence between the two. Both men were growing more accustomed to the drawn out silences between them, and didn't find it all that awkward. Having lived most of their lives alone and without friends, the two were surprised to find that they enjoyed the others' companionship. </p>
<p>"Crowley?" </p>
<p>"Yes, angel?" </p>
<p>"I'd like to help you, if that's alright with you." </p>
<p>A scoff.<br/>"Help me with what exactly?" </p>
<p>"All that anger inside of you. I can still feel it, you know. Even when you don't seem angry, it's still lurking around in there." </p>
<p>"And you want to do what? Teach me to love like you humans do? I'm a DEMON. Demons don't love. They're terrible beings of fire and rage, and attempting to get rid of that won't WORK." <br/>Crowley was practically hissing at him now, his body tensed up. They'd both stopped in their tracks as Crowley shouted, the demon suddenly seeming much taller and threatening than he had been moments before. </p>
<p>"Crowley calm down, I was just thinking that-" </p>
<p>"THAT WHAT?" He growled, his hellish accent coming through now. He stepped forwards, and Aziraphale stumbled back, his eyes wide in fear. It only angered Crowley more that Aziraphale was afraid of him now.<br/>"Where you hoping that by 'helping me', you'd feel better? You can't handle being connected to my mind? You want to fill my head with your own disgustingly human feelings, hoping to convert me? To invade my mind, just like your precious Soldiers of God did with my people's land?!"</p>
<p>"T-thats not what happened, it was your folk who-" </p>
<p>"I WAS THERE!" Crowley growled, snatching his glasses off of his face so he could look Aziraphale in the eye. His fangs were bared and he was huffing, his pupils tiny slits as he looked on in anger. Aziraphale was taking long strides backwards now, but Crowley continued to follow him, getting uncomfortably closer as he got angrier, and Aziraphale could feel it, stronger than any other moments he'd felt thusfar. </p>
<p>"I was there when your kind broke the agreement! I remember when the war was declared under false pretenses, and I witnessed the Archangels ride into my village and slaughter my people!" </p>
<p>They where mere inches from each other now, and Crowley raised a hand, ready to strike Aziraphale. The blonde man scrunched his eyes closed, waiting for the blow, but it never came. Instead- there was a loud thump, as if something, or someone, had fallen to the ground, followed by Crowley's protesting hisses. Aziraphale opened his eyes to find Adam, accompanied by three more children about his age, ontop of Crowley. They had him pinned down as he struggled in their grasp, but the demon didn't seem to be doing them any harm. Infact, his thrashing around seemed to be aimed at the ground around him that was unoccupied by the four of kids. </p>
<p>Adam looked up and met eyes with Aziraphale, his expression one of sadness and disappointment. <br/>"You should probably head back to the house now," he suggested. The others looked up at Aziraphale, nodding in agreement, as though this wasn't the first time they'd had to restrain Crowley from harming someone. <br/>Shaken, Aziraphale needed little else to prompt him, and he was very quickly scrambling back to the manor.</p>
<p>.  .  .</p>
<p>Aziraphale had arrived at the manor a scared and blubbering mess, without Crowley. It didn't take much to put together what had happened,though the group was lacking in certain details, seeing as Aziraphale was still in shock from the demon's rage. Nevertheless, Sir Newton Pulsifer had grabbed his sword and headed out into the woods, much to Anathathema's objection. It wasn't until much later when Aziraphale felt the sharp pang in his side and looked to find a rather large white scar made from the tip of a sword, that he realised why the witch hadn't wanted any harm to come or Crowley. The wound seemed to have miraculously healed in a matter of seconds for Aziraphale, but he still felt the fresh pangs of pain Crowley must have been feeling from his own wound. </p>
<p>Newton must have brought Crowley back to the manor, because it wasn't long before a shouting match began between Tracy, Anathathema, and Newton down stairs. <br/>There was a small clinking noise outside of Aziraphale's bedroom door, and the distinct noise of children hushing each other out in the hallway. Curious, Aziraphale opened his door to find two of who he presumed to be Adam's friends, holding bundles of bandages, a container of antiseptic, and a rather large bottle of wine. When they caught sight of Azira in the doorway, the boys gasped and hurriedly tried hiding the items behind their back, which only resulted in more suspicious clanking.</p>
<p>"Those aren't for you, I hope?" Aziraphale asked, raising an eyebrow. The two kept quiet, their facial expressions clearly showing the internal debate on whether they should lie or not. Before they could answer, Adam popped his head out of the door to Crowley's room. </p>
<p>"Brian, Wensleydale, what's taking so long?" </p>
<p>The boys- Brian and Wensleydale, Aziraphale presumed- began to stutter for an answer, looking from Adam to Aziraphale. </p>
<p>"Am I right to assume you kids are harboring an injured demon in there?" <br/>Adam nodded, stepping to the side as Brian and Wensleydale scurried into Crowley's room. The blonde boy crossed his arms, a serious look on his face as he addressed Aziraphale. </p>
<p>"Crowley didn't mean any harm by you. He's trying to be good, he just slips up sometimes when he gets angry" </p>
<p>"I know Adam," Aziraphale said, his voice softening. He found Adam's loyalty to Crowley rather endearing. "I've given it plenty of thought." </p>
<p>"So you're not cross with him?" Adam said, uncrossing his arms as he began to brighten up. <br/>Aziraphale shook his head 'no'. <br/>"Oh good," Adam said, a relieved smile creeping onto his face. "Mr. Crowley was very worried you would furious with him!" </p>
<p>"Oi!-" a familiar voice said, coming from inside of the demon's room. "I definitely was not!" </p>
<p>Adam rolled his eyes, at Crowley's words, and beckoned for Aziraphale to follow him into the room. Azira cautiously did so. </p>
<p>Inside the room, Aziraphale found Crowley sitting on his bed, a bloody wet rag held up to his side in the same place Aziraphale now bore a scar. Behind him also on the bed, a young girl fiddled with the bandages that had just been brought to her, meanwhile the other two boys struggled to take the cork out of the wine bottle they'd brought for Crowley. </p>
<p>Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, his face a mixture of sorrow and shame. There were many things Aziraphale wanted to say, but he pushed them down. He couldn't bring himself to berate the man when he was in such a state, demon or not. </p>
<p>"Do you want some help with those bandages?"<br/>Crowley's expression softened in appreciation, and he nodded. </p>
<p>"Yeah- Pepper do you mind helping those two open the bottle?" <br/>The girl huffed, mumbling something about 'being surrounded by idiots', but she obliged, passing the bandages off to Aziraphale as she went to go help Wensleydale and Brian, who had resorted to now aggressivly shaking the bottle whilst holding it upsidedown. </p>
<p>Aziraphale took a seat on the bed next to Crowley, neither men making direct eye contact as Azira began to help him. <br/>"Hold still," he said, taking the bloodied rag from Crowley's fingers. The demon winced as Aziraphale began to clean his wound, and Aziraphale felt his pain. <br/>He did his best to wrap the bandages around Crowley's side without causing too much pain between the both of them, and soon enough, he was done, and Crowley sat up straighter, gingerly running his fingers over the new bandages. </p>
<p>"This isn't my first time feeling pain, but it sure has been a while," he contemplated. </p>
<p>"It'll leave a nasty scar." </p>
<p>"You reckon?" Crowley asked, finally looking up at Aziraphale. </p>
<p>"I'm afraid I already know," he said with a grimace, lifting his loose shirt to show Crowley the long scar across his side in the same place. Crowley's eyes widened, and he reached a hand out to touch the scar, before quickly pulling back again. </p>
<p>"We got it!" Brian called out triumphantly, holding the now open wine bottle in his hands. Fresh wet red stains covered the shirts of all the children, aside from Pepper, who had been smart enough to stand back when the cork was loosened.<br/>Crowley was handed the bottle, and he took a big swig, closing his eyes to savor it, before passing the drink to Aziraphale. Aziraphale took the bottle, taking a large swig to match that of Crowley's.</p>
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